


I Can Do 'Forever'

by caswell



Category: Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: (lots of it), Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fluff, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sex, Prom, Underage Drinking, also heather has freckles because i said so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 07:18:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11008608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caswell/pseuds/caswell
Summary: Heather's depression has never been fun, but when it's bad enough for her to be hospitalized, Veronica takes it upon herself to give her at least one good night.





	I Can Do 'Forever'

**Author's Note:**

> WOW hey look it's my first contribution to the Heathers fandom that wasn't a shitpost that got 5 notes on tumblr. Uh, hopefully it's good? A lot of heart and soul and time that I should've spent working on homework went into it. Also, Veronica's characterization is based on a mix of musical & movie, so hopefully that... works out well? ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> Disclaimer: The last time I was in the psych ward was... 5? 4.5? years ago so if I did anything wrong/anything's inaccurate tell me? I think it's fine tho?

_**[5:47 PM]** Oh Heather My Heather: hey ronnie? We need to talk _

Veronica felt her heart stop in her chest as she read the text. Nothing had been going wrong in their relationship; Heather had been having a hard time lately, but that was just about it. Had she said something hurtful without knowing it? She could be sorta bitchy sometimes, she should own up to that... Before the worst of the racing thoughts could get to her, she typed out a response, not letting her nervousness show.

_**[5:49 PM]** Veronica Sawyer: Um, okay, about what? _

She watched the screen anxiously and almost started when Heather finally replied.

_**[5:54]** Oh Heather My Heather: well, I told my parents about everything  that's been going on recently and how I've been feeling and stuff and dad said I should go to the hospital, like, the psych ward and mom actually agreed which is a first so I guess that's what I'm doing. don't tell Heather or Heather but I thought I should let you know. _

Veronica's heart plummeted. 

_**[5:56]** Veronica Sawyer: The hospital? Oh my God, are you okay? How long will you be gone??? _

_**[5:59]** Oh Heather My Heather: I looked it up and probably like a week and a half? _

_**[6:00]** Oh Heather My Heather: oh and I'm fine don't worry _

_**[6:01]** Veronica Sawyer: Can I at least visit? Also, okay, good, if you're sure. _

_**[6:04]** Oh Heather My Heather: i don't think you're allowed to since you're not family ): _

A whole week and a half without Heather... Veronica sighed, a long, tired exhalation. Of course, Heather leaned on her for help, she always had, but Veronica needed her too; when she felt numb inside, exhausted from the weight of living, she was always there to spark that little bit of hope and love in her heart. Not to mention, would she _really_ be okay? Was she scared? She didn't realize she'd forgotten to answer until another message popped up on her screen.

_**[6:10]** Oh Heather My Heather: ronnie? are you mad at me or something? _

_**[6:11]** Veronica Sawyer: Shit. Sorry. No, I'm okay, I'm just worried. Please, please take care of yourself. _

_**[6:13]** Oh Heather My Heather: i'll be fine, i mean, this is supposed to help so… it should be okay yknow? _

_**[6:15]** Oh Heather My Heather: oh we're here. um… i should probably go? i love you veronica, a lot _

_**[6:15]** Oh Heather My Heather: i'll talk to you as soon as i can. bye ronnie _

Veronica stared, shoulders slumped, at the messages on the screen. Suddenly, all she wanted to do was sleep.

_**[6:18]** Veronica Sawyer: Bye, Heather. I love you. _

_**[6:19]** Veronica Sawyer: Really, I do, so stay safe, okay? _

She watched vigilantly, but _sent_ never turned to _read._ Veronica only tore her eyes off the screen when her mother called from downstairs: “How's it going, kid?”

“Fine,” she replied, almost choking on the lie. Suddenly feeling nauseated, Veronica covered her stomach with one hand and idly wondered what was up with her. She _knew_ Heather would be fine, that was the point of going to the hospital for help, but she was still worried sick somehow. Heather was her girlfriend, so she should've been able to help her, right? “Oh, my God,” she murmured. “This is my fault.”

Veronica fell back against her mattress with a _thump_ , letting her body lay limply for a second before curling into a fetal position. A tear threatened to slip down her cheek, but she blinked it away, taking deep, shuddering breaths. “Keep it together,” she said, voice almost inaudible; “keep it together, keep it together, keep it together…”

 

Veronica tried to ignore Heather's absence; truly, she did. She looked away from her desk in Civics, talked enough at lunch with Heather and Heather to make up for her, texted almost everyone in her contacts to push her conversation off the screen… yet it was impossible; it reminded her of sticking the tip of her tongue in the hole of a missing tooth. Her mind always wandered there somehow, even- if not _especially_ \- at inopportune times. There were a couple times where she hastily scribbled in test answers half a minute before the bell, never quite able to focus completely.

Three days into Heather’s hospitalization, Heather Chandler dropped her half-eaten school hamburger (if it could really be called that) onto her lunch tray and rested her chin in her hands. “Where’s Heather been lately, anyway?” she asked. “I mean, you _must_ know, Veronica. I bet she told you between scissoring sessions.” Had the comment been from anyone else, Veronica would’ve been openly pissed, but she’d grown used to Heather’s general disregard for sensitive feelings.

Fortunately, Veronica had already come up with a lie to protect Heather’s privacy. “She’s in Cincinnati,” she answered through a mouthful of canned string beans. After swallowing, she continued, “It’s her mom’s birthday on Saturday, so they’re going on a vacation for 10 days or something.” If only that were really the case.

“Cincinnati, huh?” Heather Duke spoke up, closing her book and looking up at Veronica. “Is there even enough to do there to stay 10 days?”

Veronica was sorely tempted to bust out one of Heather's _“Shut up, Heather!”_ s, but she held her tongue. “Well, y’know, there's probably stuff in the surrounding cities,” she said. “Dunno. I'm not my girlfriend's keeper.” Heather and Heather exchanged a suspicious look, but neither of them said anything more on the topic, and Veronica breathed a sigh of relief. “...Anyway,” she said, hastily changing the subject, “you guys wanna catch a movie tonight or something?”

“Sure, but you're paying,” Heather Chandler said, and took a bite of her 'hamburger’.

Business as usual.

 

The phone rang once, twice, a third time. Veronica, laying on her bed, waited impatiently, praying the call would go through, praying that she hadn't gotten the number wrong, or the visitor's hours wrong… After what seemed like an eternity, someone on the other end picked up. _“Hello, Toledo Hospital, youth psychiatric ward. How may I help you?”_

“Hi, ah, is Heather McNamara there?” Veronica replied, a bit intimidated by the woman's- a nurse, she supposed- gruff voice.

 _“Can I ask who this is?”_ the nurse inquired.

“Veronica. Sawyer. Um, her girlfriend,” Veronica said, trying to ignore the woman's judgemental grumble as she answered. “Her dad told me I could call, so…” She trailed off, waiting expectantly for an answer.

The nurse sighed. _“Right. Yeah, I suppose I can let you talk.”_ A moment later, there was a shout, thankfully not right in the microphone: _“Heather McNamara? There's a Veronica Sawyer on the phone for you.”_

There was a muffled shuffling noise as the phone passed hands, and then a voice that soothed Veronica's nerves as soon as she heard it. _“Ronnie?”_ Heather asked, sounding subdued. _“Ronnie, is that you?”_

Veronica smiled, letting her eyes fall shut with relief. “Yeah. Yeah, it's me. How is it there?”

There was silence on the other end for a few moments. _“Um, it's okay, I guess,”_ Heather answered quietly. _“I guess I'm not used to being one of the 'normal’ people.”_ She laughed, devoid of humor. _“As stupid as that sounds.”_

“Hey, now you know how it feels,” Veronica joked. She'd had to claw her way up into popularity; Heather… well, who knows how Heather became a Heather™, but it must've been pretty easy. “People are being _nice_ to you, though, right?”

 _“I mean, sure. We're all kinda messed up here, so we put aside our differences, y’know?”_ Veronica could hear how weary Heather was, even over the phone. _“How’s everything going there? Did Heather and Heather ask about me?”_

Veronica leaned back against her pillows and crossed an arm over her chest. “Yeah, I told ‘em you were in Cincinnati for your mom’s birthday. Chandler bought it, I guess? Duke might be a little suspicious, but you know her. If Chandler believes it, she’ll believe it, too.” Heather hummed in agreement, and Veronica paused before saying anything else, formulating her thoughts. “You know, I really miss you.”

 _“I miss you too,”_ Heather murmured. Her voice cracked a tiny bit as she continued, _“God, Veronica, I wish you were here.”_

Veronica almost heard her own heart break in her chest. “As soon as you get out of there, I'm coming to see you, alright?” Even though Heather couldn't see it, she crossed her heart with one pointer finger. “I promise.”

A smile was in Heather's voice as she said, _“Thanks, Ver… hm?”_ she cut herself off, and, to someone else- probably the gruff nurse from earlier- asked, _“Oh… already?”_ She sighed in disappointment. _“Okay, I gotta go, um, I can't hog the phone. ...I love you, Ronnie.”_

“I love you t-” Veronica started, but there was a _click_ as the phone hung up halfway through. She dropped her arm to the mattress and let her phone slip from her fingers. “... Too.”

 

A sudden buzz from Veronica's phone made her jump and drop her pencil onto her pencil onto her notebook, the freshly sharpened tip breaking against the paper. She groaned quietly, then scooped up her phone; she hadn't been expecting anyone to text, and she'd been in _the zone,_ so whoever was trying to contact her had better have a good reason. Fingernails clicking against the screen, she typed in her passcode and looked over the message, then reread it, giving a small, delighted laugh.

 

_**[7:05 PM]** Oh Heather My Heather: hey ronnie, they processed the paperwork, im getting out today, ill be home in like an hour _

 

It was a striking difference from her usual peppy typing style, but it was her Heather, alright. It'd been a long week and a half without her; the dark was so much darker, and there was plenty of dark in Veronica’s life. Even an exhausted, numb Heather was a shining sun to her. Veronica began to type out a message- _Welcome home, it's so good to hear from you -_ but she reconsidered, glancing toward her closet.

While she'd gotten both their tickets, Veronica hadn't _technically_ asked Heather to prom, but she may or may not have bought a dress anyway, a simple, silky cobalt one. Actually, she may or may not have bought _two_ dresses, since she saw an adorable frilly yellow one on her way out that, if she remembered her measurements right, would fit Heather like Cinderella's missing left shoe. She'd been blessed to find a cheap dress store with numerous discounts, so it wasn't _too_ expensive, but her parents were still less than thrilled when she spent double what she said she would. When Heather went to the hospital, though, Veronica's dreams of going to prom with her had been dashed, and there really wasn't anyone else she'd want to go with. Except tonight was prom night…

Hurriedly, Veronica ripped a page from her notebook and scribbled a note onto it- _Gone to Heather M's, I'll be back before curfew, love ya_ , _V-_ and set it on her pillow before she pushed her books off her lap and rushed to the closet. She'd have to motor if she wanted to be ready on time, but hey, with the power of sapphic love she could do anything, or so she'd always joked. Miraculously, it only took her about 30 minutes to get her makeup on, shave, and get changed into her dress, struggling with the zipper as she contorted her arms in ways she hadn't previously thought was possible. She would have called in her mother to help if she actually had time to sit through her lecture about unprotected sex and drinking and driving; she'd been held up the previous year because of that, leading to her (now-ex) boyfriend standing awkwardly in the doorway while Veronica half-listened. This year, though, she was the one doing the picking up. While her parents were watching some news story in the living room, she snuck into the garage and escaped without a word.

 

It was the first time ever that Veronica'd sped while driving, the speedometer ticking up two, five, ten miles over the speed limit. The station wagon rocketed down the carefully maintained road, and she thanked the gods that Heather lived on the rich side of town, because there were no potholes for her to drive over. Her shawl had long since fallen in a lump between her back and the seat, probably getting wrinkled to hell and back, but that wasn't important. She had the dress, and that's what mattered.

Veronica came to a screeching halt across the street from the lavish, goldenrod house that she'd been to countless times. She undid her seatbelt with a _click,_ and, grabbing the garment bag holding the dress from the passenger seat, stepped out of the car. In her pencil skirt and high heels, Veronica shuffled awkwardly as she tried to hurry. Just pulling into the driveway was a Tesla that she recognized as Heather's father's; in the back seat, she spotted a familiar head of blonde hair. The car door opened slowly, and Veronica called out, “Heather! Over here!”

As Heather turned, the moon lit up her golden curls like an angel’s halo, taking Veronica's breath away for a moment. Heather's weary face broke into a grin full of relief and adoration, and she yelled back, “Ronnie! What're you doing here?” She was holding a duffel bag full of what was presumably clothing, but she dropped it then, running over to where Veronica was standing at the end of the driveway. Her father looked as if he was about to ask what was going on, but he seemed to think better of it, shaking his head and going to unlock the front door.

“Don't tell me you forgot,” Veronica scolded jokingly. She thrust the black bag into Heather's hands. “It's prom night, girl.”

Heather looked with doe eyes from Veronica's expectant face to the bag and back again. Her manicured nails squeezed into it as she said, “But I never bought a ticket, and I-- I don’t have makeup on…” Quietly, she added, “...They took it away.”

With a sympathetic look, Veronica sighed and rubbed Heather’s shoulder. “You look beautiful,” she reassured her. _“But,_ if you want, we can go back to my place and slap some on quick.” She was caught off guard as Heather flung her arms around her, bag slapping her in the back- which she ignored- and laughed, a light giggle that made Veronica’s smile double in size. “Hey, now, it’s just makeup.”

With a sniff, Heather let go of Veronica and brushed a tear of happiness from her eye, the lack of mascara smears looking unnatural on her face. “Sorry, it’s just, um…” She looked away, smiling bashfully. “That’d be nice. That’d be… normal.” She took in a deep breath, holding it for a moment before breathing out slow, breath dancing like smoke in the evening air. “Okay-- come on, Ronnie, let’s go!”

 

Veronica peered intently at her small collection of lipstick- mostly borrowed from her three more fashionable friends- and picked out a light peach-pink color, popping off the cap and twisting it before turning back to Heather. “Okay, how about this one?” When Heather nodded, curled hair bouncing, Veronica tipped her chin up with two fingers and gently pressed it against her lips, squinting as she made sure she did it perfectly. She was only about halfway done, though, when Heather’s lips curled into a tiny smile. “Hey, I can’t put your lipstick on when you do that!” Veronica said, snorting in laughter.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Heather giggled. “It just tickles when you do it!” She wiggled the slightest bit, then sat still and tried her very best to keep her lips straight, which was quite hard to do, all things considered. When Veronica made the finishing touches, then leaned back and gave her her compact mirror, Heather rubbed her lips together. “Hey, you’ve gotten pretty good at this!”

“Why, thank you,” Veronica replied with a proud grin. There was half a second’s pause before she added, “Now, close your eyes.”

“Ronnie, I thought you said we don’t have time to put eyeshadow or anything on,” Heather protested, but obeyed, eyelids falling shut as she waited patiently. A moment later, Veronica’s lips were pressed softly against hers in a chaste kiss and stayed there for a breathless minute before they broke away, both of them laughing.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” Veronica murmured, then beamed. “Oh yeah, I bought a shawl, too.” There was a shelf in her closet, and, though she had to stand on her toes, she retrieved a plastic bag from it and tossed it to Heather. “Here. I think it matches…?”

It really was a beautiful shawl, white and lace knit, and Heather grinned as she positioned it over her shoulders. Her smile fell the slightest bit, though, as she looked at it closer. “Uh, Veronica, how much did all of this cost?”

Veronica awkwardly ran a hand through her hair, then dismissed the question with a shrug. “Not too much. I had some money saved up, so…” It was a question she'd been hoping to avoid, because she knew it would stress Heather out, and she'd want to pay for it, even though it was a gift.

Sure enough: “Look, I'll pay you back, okay? Pinkie promise.” Heather held out her hand, little finger curved, but Veronica shook her head.

“Hey, don't worry about it. Consider it a present.” Veronica tugged on Heather's arm, quickly changing the subject. “Here, look in the mirror. You look beautiful.” She led her into the bathroom and stood her in front of the mirror, internally cursing herself for not cleaning it off before.

Heather didn't seem fazed, though; she peered at her reflection and gave a bright smile, admiring her outfit. Before it could ruin her mascara, she blinked away a tear and turned to Veronica. “I don't know how to thank you for this…”

Veronica took one of Heather's hands delicately in hers and rubbed the back with one thumb, reflecting her smile. “You can thank me by coming to prom with me. And dancing, and kissing, and maybe an after-party… Just, stay and have a life with me, okay?”

Heather didn't reply; instead, she practically leapt onto Veronica, squeezing her in a bear hug that seemed impossible for such a slight girl. She nuzzled her face into the crook of Veronica’s neck and mumbled, “I love you, Ronnie.”

Careful not to mess up her carefully (though unprofessionally; she’d done that as well) styled hair, Veronica pat Heather’s head, chest tight with affection that seemed to pulse through her whole body. “I love you too, Heather,” she replied, rocking gently back and forth. It took all her willpower not to just stand there and hold her the whole night, maybe with some kisses, but she eventually let go and said, “Come on, we gotta jam if we wanna get to the hotel on time.”

Heather brushed the hair out of her shining eyes and nodded. “Yeah, let’s g-” She squealed in delight as Veronica picked her up, holding her bridal style, and wrapped her arms around her neck. “Take me away, Ronnie!”

 

“Incredible,” Heather murmured, taking in the sights. Lights of all colors shined on the dancefloor, sparkling on silk and lace, dresses that twirled in time with the beat of the music. “Everyone looks amazing. I'm not dressed wrong or anything, right? ...Ronnie?”

Veronica stared starry-eyed at Heather, a silhouette against the glittering lights, standing out brilliantly among the crowd, and pulled her into her arms for a long, tender kiss. “You look amazing,” she whispered, “don't worry. And if anyone says anything otherwise-”

“You'll fight them?” Heather finished for her, amused. “Alright, if you say so. …Shall we dance?” She held out her hand, and Veronica took it, lacing her fingers in the spaces between Heather's. The DJ was playing some lovey-dovey, fast-paced pop song, but Heather placed Veronica's hand on her left hip, keeping their other hands clasped together.

“We're going to slow dance to _this?”_ Veronica asked, laughter in her voice. “I think we're supposed to wait a little for that.” Still, she squeezed Heather's hand, heart skipping as she squeezed back, and swayed back and forth. She vaguely hoped that nobody's attention would be brought to them for various reasons; if anyone was looking, though, she blocked them out, always looking in Heather's eyes. Enraptured, she hardly heard what Heather was saying when she spoke up. “Sorry, what?”

“I said, can I stay at your house tonight?” Heather repeated, looking at Veronica expectantly. “I mean, we can hit a party or something beforehand, but I'd feel… a lot better.”

Something about her expression, happiness and melancholy intermingling somehow, tugged at Veronica's heartstrings, and she blurted out, “Of course you can. Is that even a question?” The love in her heart was reflected in the grateful look Heather gave her, and she half expected another of her lunge-hugs that she gave when she was particularly delighted with something Veronica had said, but she kept dancing, probably worrying about it being a faux pas. Instead, Veronica edged closer slightly, seeking the warmth that seemed to radiate from her.

The quick beat of the pop song gently faded out, and from the DJ stand, a voice announced, _“Ladies and gentlemen, grab your partners, it’s time for a slow dance!”_ Veronica looked back at Heather, and they both laughed, pressing their foreheads together as their breath warmed each other’s skin.

 

One of the many benefits to being friends with- and dating a third of- the Heathers was VIP access to pretty much any party you could think of, provided it was a) held by a student at Westerburg or b) some rando from a nearby college or the like that wanted to get in the pants of any moderately pretty girl he could get his hands on. Veronica wasn’t fond of the latter, but she’d quickly discovered that, despite being largely assholes, the popular kids at her school held undeniably righteous parties.

After a solid half hour of dancing her ass off while simultaneously avoiding getting grinded on by half the football team, Veronica sat on a couch in Ram Sweeney’s basement, nursing a red Solo cup of cheap beer. Heather leaned against her, tipsy but thankfully not drunk- she was a sad drunk, and Veronica had some… _ideas_ that would be amoral and quite illegal if Heather was shitfaced- and held Veronica’s arm, rubbing it gently. “Do you think they have a piñata this time?” she asked. “I wanna smash a piñata.”

Veronica shrugged, ignoring Heather’s small squeak of protest as her head slipped partially off her shoulder. “Dunno. I mean, maybe?” she answered idly. “We can buy one to break at my place, but you'd have to be quiet about it. My parents are gonna be asleep.” As an afterthought, she added, “But don't give me a turn, because if you spin me I will most definitely puke.”

Heather grinned, smile lighting up her freckled face. “Ronnie, have I ever told you that you're the best?” she asked.

“Not in the past twenty minutes,” Veronica said jokingly. Her fingers brushed through Heather's blonde hair, curling and uncurling the ringlets. “But in the meantime, you wanna hit this party a little harder?”

Reinvigorated, Heather hopped off the couch, the crown of her head bumping into Veronica's chin, and threw her hands up. “C'mon, let's go! Pour some beer on your shirt and let's party!” She pulled Veronica off the couch, ignoring her eye roll at the implication of a wet shirt contest, and pulled her close. Veronica kissed her, a quick peck on the lips, and she grabbed her cheeks and pulled her in, deepening it for a heartstopping moment. When she finally pulled away, she whispered, “Dance with me?”

“Definitely,” Veronica said lowly, a smirk written across her face. The booming bass of the house music that resonated through the room, shaking her to the core as she pulled Heather by the hand into the crowd of students, half of them inebriated and a couple high off their asses.  Veronica wasn't a big dancer, but the touch of alcohol in her system always gave her the courage to try, even if she looked like an idiot. She was at the very least doing better than those whose coordination had kicked the bucket, drunkenly grinding against random girls.

By the time Veronica started paying attention to anything but the music and her date, the crowd was thinning; the students had scattered, off to give HJs in the far rooms of the Sweeney household or perhaps puking in the bushes. Heather noticed her looking around and voiced Veronica's thoughts: “Damn, this place really cleared out.” She took a swig from her beer, ran a hand through her sweat-damp hair, and sighed. “C’mon, let’s not overstay our welcome.”

Veronica nodded, crumpling her own empty cup in her hand and tossing it on the floor- poor manners, but, to be frank, she hated Ram Sweeney and didn’t particularly care to make his life easier- and rummaged through her purse for her keys. “Fine, but I’m driving. I had less alcohol.” Heather didn’t object; she’d only recently gotten her license, and Veronica knew the thought of driving still set her on edge. “Finish your beer and let’s jam.”

The door unlocked with a _click,_ and Veronica tried to open it quietly, cringing as the hinges squealed in protest. Luckily, her parents weren’t very light sleepers; for the Sawyers, sleep came easy and stayed through the night. She ushered Heather in, then followed, heels clicking on the shining wood. The digital clock on the microwave read 1:00 AM- an hour after curfew. “Well, I’ll deal with that in the morning,” Veronica mumbled to herself, then yawned. “What did you wanna do, anyway? I might just knock out…”

Heather laughed, shaking her head. “You've been with rolling with the Heathers for almost a year and you're still only staying up 'til one?” She grabbed Veronica's wrist and pulled her towards her bedroom, hand slipping down into hers a moment later. “We could at least watch a movie and cuddle or something. ...Ronnie, we forgot the piñata!” Heather's face fell at the realization.

Veronica sighed, exhausted, and pat Heather's head with her free hand. “Heather McNamara, I love you, and I would punch a bear for you, but I am _not_ driving out at one in the morning to buy a piñata. Besides, all the party stores are gonna be closed.” Unfortunately, being her girlfriend, Heather had intimate knowledge of Veronica, including her #1 weakness: puppy dog eyes. Veronica choked at the sight of them, and, sure enough, she said, “... We'll go get one right away in the morning. In the meantime, how about that movie?”

 

Five rounds of rock-paper-scissors later, Veronica let out a hushed whoop, then smiled smugly. “Horror it is.” She opened her laptop and booted it up, navigating quickly to Netflix. “So, how about V/H/S/2? Or maybe The Shining?” Horror flicks weren't quite Veronica's favorites- she was partial to black comedy- but Heather got _adorably_ clingy when she was frightened by them, and, by the end, she was always oddly engrossed. She was an odd mix of anxious and morbid that had always confused Veronica.

Heather crossed her arms. “I wanted to watch a romance,” she pouted, but, after a pause, answered, “...Fine. The Shining.” She leaned back against the pillows at the head of Veronica's bed and leaned her head on her shoulder as she set up the movie.

Veronica rested the computer on her lap, turning it so both of them could see it, and wrapped an arm around Heather’s shoulders. “This one's not so bad. It's a little old, so the special effects aren't gruesome or anything.” Her fingertips brushed her hair gently, the soft touch soothing Heather as they watched. Despite that, she still curled up to Veronica, tensing as “blood" poured from the elevator on the dimmed screen.

“We shoulda watched The Notebook,” Heather mumbled. Veronica cringed at the thought of watching such a sappy movie, especially with completely unrelatable characters. She really didn't give a damn about relationships except her own, anyway. Regardless of Heather's movie preference, two hours later, she was inches away from the screen, entranced, as Veronica laid back with half-lidded eyes.

“See, I told you you'd like it,” she mumbled sleepily. Heather just nodded, blonde hair glowing blue in the artificial light of the computer screen. As the speakers declared _“Here's Johnny!_ ”, Veronica stared at her, the curve of her back, the freckles on her exposed shoulders, the way she had her hands clasped tight in her lap, the slight rise and fall of her chest. She stared at her, and she loved her. She didn’t notice the minutes ticking by until Heather turned around to look at her excitedly, brown eyes open as wide as her grin.

“I take back everything I ever said about horror movies!” Heather laughed and fell back against the pillows with a _thump,_ then turned to Veronica. “That was fantastic! Why haven’t I seen that movie before?”

“Because you always demand to watch something else when I suggest a horror movie,” Veronica answered, then planted a quick kiss on Heather’s lips, making the other girl giggle again. “C’mon, you know it's true! And you always end up liking them.”

“Yeah, yeah, Veronica knows right and all-” Heather was cut off by another kiss, Veronica's lips warm and soft on hers. She smiled into it, and, when Veronica broke away, she asked, “What's with all the kisses? You sure are cuddly tonight, Ronnie. ...Not that I'm complaining.”

“I just… love you,” Veronica said, voice hardly above a whisper, “a lot.” She curled her fingers in the blonde hair that cascaded down Heather's back, leaning closer for another kiss, and another. Her heart skipped as Heather took her face in her hands, thumbs rubbing circles on her cheekbones. “I really-” _kiss-_ “really-” _kiss-_ “love you, Heather McNamara. And… I'm glad you're still here. Don't leave, okay?”

Heather took a long, deep breath, then exhaled quietly. “I won't,” she said eventually. “I won't leave you, Ronnie.” She snuggled closer to Veronica, then continued, “But let's not talk about that right now. I want to forget. Make me forget?” Veronica was confused at first before Heather's hand drifted to her side, slipping beneath the hem of her blue pajama shirt. It was sudden, but-

“With pleasure,” Veronica murmured, voice soft and low, like a switch had been flipped in her; Heather's skin tingled as her warm breath met it. Veronica felt Heather's heartbeat quicken beneath her lips as she kissed down her throat. Quietly, she asked, “How about we lock the door?”

 

Sunshine gleamed through the window, casting a bright patch of light on Veronica and Heather's entangled bodies. Still half asleep, Veronica stretched out her arms, humming softly, and looked down at Heather, who was asleep with her head resting on her chest. She looked absolutely at peace, a gentle smile on her sleeping face, but Veronica knew she'd have to wake her up eventually, so she nudged her with a quiet, “Heather? It's-” she glanced at her alarm clock- “almost 10 A.M.”

Heather was unresponsive for a moment; then, softly, she groaned. “We were up til, like, 4, lemme sleep.” She covered her face with one hand, feebly trying to keep out the light. “'sides,” she said, “you're all warm and soft.”

Veronica brushed her fingers through Heather's hair, endearingly messy from sleep. It hurt her heart a little, because Heather genuinely was so damn precious when she was sleepy, but- “For real, I need to get you back to your dad. I called to tell him you were staying over, but he’s gonna wanna keep an eye on you.”

Heather tensed for a second at the reminder, and Veronica felt a pang of guilt, but she relaxed soon enough. “Yeah, you're probably right,” she sighed, cracking open one eye to look up at Veronica. “You wouldn't happen to have a change of clothes?”

Realizing she'd reminded Heather- who was, understandably, somewhat out of it at the time- to pack everything _except_ for clothes the next day if she stayed over, Veronica mentally slapped herself in the forehead, then nodded. “Sure, go ahead, but my clothes might be a little long on you.”

Heather sat up and stretched, and Veronica watched the sunlight play on her bare skin for a moment before glancing away. “No problem, I'll wear them as pajamas,” she said, lips curling into a smile. As Veronica tidied up the bed, readjusting the mattress and fixing the sheets, Heather put her underwear on and stared at the contents of Veronica's closet. Finally, she picked out a pair of shorts and a white shirt with the words **BIG FUN** printed on the front in heavy black letters. Twirling around to show off her outfit, she asked, “Well, Ronnie, how do I look?”

It was an odd look to see such casual clothes on a Heather, but Veronica smiled warmly and answered, “You look great.” Suddenly aware of her own nudity, Veronica hastily got dressed as well, grabbing a random skirt and t-shirt from her laundry basket. Once she was (temporarily) satisfied with her appearance, she walked over to Heather and wrapped her arms around her from the back, resting her chin on her shoulder. “So,” she said, “did ya still wanna get that piñata?”

“Oh, shit, I was a little tipsy last night, huh?” Heather laughed, leaning her head to lay against Veronica's. “I'll pass, but the next party I go to had better have a piñata.”

“Tell that to Ram Sweeney, not me,” Veronica said, kissing Heather on the cheek before breaking away and heading for the door. “Well, regardless, we should probably leave for your place.”

Heather picked up her bag of clothes, then followed Veronica's lead, lacing their fingers together. As they passed through the living room, she spotted Veronica's mother sitting on the couch and called, “Hi, Mrs. Sawyer! ...Bye, Mrs. Sawyer!”

Veronica's mother turned around and smiled. With a wave, she replied, “Bye, lovebirds!”

 _“Mom!”_ Veronica squawked, embarrassed, but Heather giggled and pulled her ahead, waving back to Veronica's mother as she did. Veronica fake-glared at her mother for a second before running to catch up with Heather before her arm was pulled off.

 

As her car approached Heather's home for the second time, Veronica felt a hint of sorrow; the night had been perfect, everything she'd hoped for even with the current circumstances, but, of course, it had to end soon. She shook her head at herself, knowing she was only being sentimental. She'd see Heather again soon; she wouldn't be in school for a couple more weeks, she'd been informed, but her evenings were free for the most part, and she was always invited. Both of Heather's parents had quickly gotten over their apprehension of Veronica once they realized how much Heather loved her, and now she stopped by whichever house Heather was staying at at least once a week just to hang out, slipping in as an honorary member of the family with relative ease.

“What's wrong, Ronnie?” Heather asked, leaning forward in the passenger seat. “You look kinda sad.”

“No, it's nothing,” Veronica said, which was mostly true, but… “Do you wanna go on a date this week or something? Like, a real one? Y’know, there's that fancy new restaurant that just opened up…”

Out of the corner of her eye, Veronica saw Heather smile delightedly. “Oh, for sure! But this time it's on me,” she said, leaving no room for debate.

“Fine, fine,” Veronica conceded, reflecting her warm grin. She cursed under her breath as she almost missed her turn, reminding herself that she needed to keep her eyes on the road; she was a fairly new driver, after all. Maneuvering the car carefully, she turned onto Heather's street. As she reached the same yellow house, she came to a gentle stop, put the car in park, and stashed the keys in her purse. “C'mon, I'll walk you in.”

“You really don't have to,” Heather laughed, but regardless, she stepped out of the car, walking around to the driver's side to take Veronica's outstretched hand. The thought lingered in Veronica’s mind that her fingers fit perfectly into the spaces between her own. “What a chivalrous suitor I have!” Heather teased, then giggled.

Hands clasped together, Veronica lead Heather up her long driveway- thankfully _not_ in high heels this time; she’d slipped on some sandals on the way out- and to her front door, which she knocked on gently. “Hello? Mr. McNamara? It’s me, Veronica.” After a few moments, the white door swung open, and Heather’s father stood in the entrance, arms wide open.

Heather nearly jumped into his arms, clinging on tight as she grinned. “Dad! I had such a great time at prom; Veronica was so sweet!” she chirped, then looked back at the aforementioned girl. “Ronnie, why don’t you come in? I’ll fry up some eggs for breakfast.”

Chuckling, Veronica shook her head. “Well, first of all, I know better than to taste your cooking-” Heather looked offended for half a second, then shrugged, knowing Veronica was right- “and secondly, I sorta blew off my homework and studying and stuff for prom, so I should _really_ go home and work on that.” She rubbed the back of her neck and gave Heather an apologetic look. “There’s a test tomorrow in Fleming’s class, and I _really_ don’t want to f- _mess_ that up.”

With a disappointed look, Heather sighed, a small pout on her face before she collected herself. “Well, that’s fine! Just don’t forget about that date, okay?” She stepped away from her father, and, leaning on her tiptoes, kissed Veronica’s lips, skin gentle on warm skin. “Thanks for last night,” she whispered, low enough so her father couldn’t hear. “I owe you a lot.” There was a pause, a small breath. “I love you, Ronnie. Forever.” Before Veronica could react to the bold declaration, Heather broke away, stepping over the threshold of her house and giving a little wave as she turned to look back at Veronica. “Call me! Or text me! Or something!” she said, then blew a kiss and promptly shut the door.

Veronica blinked, looking at the white wood, but not _seeing_ . The word rolled around in her mind like a top on a table: _forever._ Something she hadn't heard before, something she'd been too afraid to say, because what if Heather didn't feel the same? “Forever,” she murmured as she turned away from the house. “I can do 'forever’.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I love u MWAH  
> Also, credit where credit's due, shout out to my boy Isak gayeros for the critiques and help!


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